Descension
by Atilio Montenegro
Summary: Ficlets. Mostly Urzula. Violence, incest, among other villainous activities. Ch.5-- Azula raises her glass, she smiles radiantly, I look past the proffered chalice to her lips, already stained red with wine, as they manipulate, "To my redeemer." Rated M
1. Swift Kicks

Disclaimer: AtLA does not belong to me, and I seek no profit.

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Swift Kicks

"No. That is wrong Zuko!" Ozai spat out fiercely, glowering over his son. Zuko's attempt at a flying axe kick failed horribly, he lay sprawled out on the grass nursing a throbbing ankle. Ozai reached down to the crook of an elbow lifting his son to his feet, leaning close so he was hovering inches from his face. "Failure is no option." Ozai was irritated by the tears falling from his son's eyes. So weak. "How many times must we go through this?"

The boy shook his head wretchedly, he wasn't even man enough to look his father in the eye.

"You will train until you get this form correct. You will _never _disappoint me in public again, boy. Understood?" Zuko nodded turbulently.

"What's going on?" A light feminine voice called out in concern.

Ozai groaned inwardly, releasing his grip on the boy's robes, he folded his arms behind his back, turning expressionlessly to face the untimely interruption. "I am instructing my child."

His wife stood tall, glaring coldly at him as she took in the scene. Her small daughter, trailing her as usual, was followed closely by a coddling maid servant.

Ursa strode right past her husband, falling to her knees beside the boy, who upon being released had sunk back to the ground stifling tears. "Zuko?" She embraced him before holding him out at arms length, taking inventory of his limbs no doubt. "Dear, are you hurt?"

"No." Ozai answered impatiently.

The boy sobbed pathetically on her shoulder, brushing away tears with the sleeve of one arm, while attempting to cradle his ankle with the other.

Ursa looked to her husband, her soft features changed rapidly from concern to anger. She thrust her chin up from the top of the boy's head defiantly glaring at Ozai, who in turn looked on the proceedings with obvious disgust. "How can you justify pushing our child like this? Just because you want him to show off to some stuck-up nobleman who doesn't even--"

Ignoring his wife's idiotic complaints he drilled ahead quickly. "Do not question me. I was far more advanced as a child, if he can't complete the form it's because he's not pushing himself hard enough. He is weak. You're making--"

"He's barely six years old!" Ursa interjected, holding the trembling fool closer. "You can't expect him to master--"

"Oh, but I do." Ozai motioned the wide-eyed maid servant away, leaving his daughter to stand next him. "I expect _perfection_. He will continue his lessons." He lowered his voice to his most commanding rasp, glaring down the bridge of his nose. "Now."

Ursa turned her head aside angrily, resting it again on Zuko's head. "After his injury has been checked." It certainly did not sound like a request, Ursa pulled herself and the boy up from the palace lawn to their feet.

Ozai was tiring of the woman's persistence. He shook his head, turning from the pitiful sight. He found that his daughter was peering up at him from the vicinity of his knees, an odd little smirk distorting her face. On any other child, Ozai supposed the curled lips would be termed 'endearing', but the way his daughter wore it... was almost mocking. As if stating plainly what she thought of the great Prince Ozai. It was a burning sting administered by a mere child. _Ursa's child._ Rounding on Zuko he yanked him from his wife's arms. "_My_ child, won't be leaving here until he has mastered the form. I won't have my only son turned into some sissy mother's boy!" He shook the boy's shoulders violently for emphasis, enjoying the shocked look spreading across Ursa's face.

But even as Ozai spoke these words a swift kick caught him dead in the ankle bone. His eyes widened in surprise, his mouth twisting into a hateful grimace. Azula stood next to his rapidly pulsing ankle, her arms folded behind her back, grinning widely up at her father.

Ursa hastily snatched the three-year-old away from him, clutching Azula tightly to her body. Ozai was positively incensed with rage, gritting his teeth, he roughly thrust Zuko from him, the boy practically crashed into Ursa.

"Take your children and leave my sight." He turned his back to his family, glaring towards the high fountains in the distance. Ursa immediately led her children from the gardens, nudging Azula along, as she repeatedly glanced back at her father. Ozai cocked his head after them in revulsion. How could the spirits have punished him with such a son? And the girl. Ursa's daughter would prove even more worthless than her older brother. _Weakness. My own blood._ Striding slowly toward the nearby marble bench, Prince Ozai struggled to keep a limp from impairing his gait.

----

Inside the confines of the royal palace, the physician was called forth to Prince Zuko's quarters, the thorough examination of his injury revealed nothing worse than light bruising. The recommendation to not indulge in any physical activity prompted sighs of relief. Ursa smiled down at her son, trying to keep the heartache she felt hidden. Zuko bowed his head away, attempting to buckle his small crimson boot as he fisted an eye.

"Zuko?" Ursa rubbed his warm forehead. He raised his face to her slowly, his eyes teary once more.

"I failed." His voice was cracked in exasperation.

"No, Zuko." Ursa replied firmly, cupping his tear-stained cheek. "You're doing wonderfully, you've accomplished so much in such little time."

"It's not enough." Zuko pouted miserably, pulling his legs into his chest, gazing off to the side.

Ursa pulled him up onto his mattress to sit next to her, she rubbed his shoulders tenderly. "Did you do your best Zuko?"

"Yes." Zuko sniffed, bringing his damp sleeve up to mop his tears.

"You see?" Ursa smiled brightly, wiping away spare tears with her own sleeve, she pulled him to her breast. "Then you did exactly what you needed to do, and I will always be proud of you as long as you keep trying to do your best."

"What if your best isn't good enough?" His voice, muffled against her robes, trembled in uncertainty.

"Zuko," She clutched him tighter, "your best is always enough." Her son didn't answer, perhaps he was thinking this over. It may be he didn't believe her. Ursa could understand his confusion. _Ozai._ She pent her anger. Now was not the time for it. She kissed along Zuko's hairline until she felt his small head nod against her shoulder.

"I love you, Zuko." Ursa whispered softly into his ear, kissing it. He giggled slightly, pulling back to smile tearily at her.

"I love you too, Mom-- Oww!"

Ursa gasped in surprise, finding that Azula had made her way onto the bed and kicked her brother to the floor.

"Hey!" Zuko raged, shaking a fist indignantly, while rubbing his backside with a free hand.

His sister grinned down at him from the edge of the mattress, laughing in a way that could have been termed 'maniacally', but her mother found it begrudgingly endearing.

Ursa sighed. "Zuko, she didn't mean it." Her daughter's widened grin of victory just as soon faltered when her mother added slyly, "But she will have to be punished..."

It was Zuko's turn to grin maliciously. Azula's brow shot up in alarm and attempting to make a break for it, her mother's arms easily overwhelmed her, twisting her flat on her back, Ursa assaulted the tiny body in a barrage of tickles. Azula giggled loudly, half-heartedly fighting to keep the nimble hands from her. Zuko attempted to assist in the attack, but was quickly forced away clutching at his left eye, which apparently had gotten a tiny elbow shoved into it. The first casualty of a fierce battle.

"Why you little monster..." Growling playfully, Ursa untucked Azula's shirt, exposing the pale squirming stomach, she blew kisses into it loudly, her daughter squealed in delight.

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A/N: The Royal Family. Functional little group aren't they?

Perhaps this should not have been the first drabble, as I don't want you to get the wrong idea about things. While not every update will consist of 'incest' there is plenty of it to be had. (Meh, I really enjoy the pairing.)

But I'll always warn you of immoral acts at the top of the page, so you may definitely skip it if it's not your thing. Thanks for reading folks.

Last Note: These drabbles are in no way related one to the other. Unless they happen to be...huh.

_--A head-butt to Ozai's crotch would have been a lot more symbolic. ;b_


	2. Scared Of Lonely

**Disclaimer:** AtLA is too cool to be owned by me. Respect the Vatar'd.

**Warning:**** Incest. **Ye be warned.

**Inspired By:** The Beyoncé song of the same title. I wouldn't recommend the Cd (sorry B) but the tracks 'Scared Of Lonely' and 'Ave Maria' appeal to my Urzula nature. :) Post-war.

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**Scared Of Lonely**

"Mom?" My eyes are open before I'm fully awake. I'm not sure what woke me until a blinding light flashes threw the shutters, the entire wooden window frame trembles, resonating the long thunder that always follows a surge of energy. I reach a sweaty palm to the other side of the mattress, finding only bare sheets.

"Mom?" I call out again, the darkness of my bedroom suddenly seems daunting. My mind floods with memories and for a brief moment I even consider that I'm back in my cramped prison cell. I move to thrust the sheets away, but find my legs have been entangled in them. I surge against my restraints in blind panic. "Mom!"

No answer.

I resign to the fact that it was all just a lovely dream, that I'd finally awakened into nightmarish reality, she never really came for me.

A small light emerges from the darkness, the low throbbing shadows a slender frame. I've never been more relieved to see my mother.

"Azula, sweetheart, what's wrong?" Her voice full of concern, candle in hand, her open palm protecting it from the storm.

"I...," She doesn't need to know I was close to having an episode, "I didn't know where you were."

For a moment her eyes are distant, as if she'd heard me say it before. She gives me a warm smile that eases away all thoughts of darkness and fear that had threatened to overtake me.

"I'm sorry baby, the wind blew out the candle." She takes the little dish slanted with the teetering wick and stows it into a glass lantern, closing its small brass door and sealing the clasp. The quavering flame dances in contentment finding protection and reassurance that had long been remiss.

Another rumble of thunder erupts as I pry the sheets away, kicking them down to my feet. My mother looks amused when she curls into bed next to me. She cocks a light brow. "Were you hot or did your blanket just insult you?" I smirk in response, shifting my hands behind my head, sighing in a huff of contented air when she rests her arm across my torso, laying her head down gently on my chest, she makes a sound of appreciation at the heat.

A flash of light, followed by another burst of thunder. She pushes harder against me, I lower a hand to the small of her back, an old reflex of mine. She doesn't care for storms. Never had really. Sometimes she'd come into my room late nights and sleep with me instead of father. That was around the time her and Dad started sleeping in separate rooms. Many a night she would sob quietly trying not to wake me, but I was a light sleeper. In my most frustrated voice I'd ask what was the matter with her.

_Nothing dear._ I dismissed the answer finding it hard to belive someone would cry for 'nothing'.

_Whatever Mom, you're so weird. _I turned from her but the mattress still trembled with stifled tears. _Ugh, if you need to hug me just get it over with, okay?_

I was too young to understand such things, but I was so proud that an adult, especially my _own_ mother, would seek me out for comfort. At those times, especially when there was a storm, I served as replacement for my father. The next best thing. Better than Zuko.

Until Dad found out.

_Put aside childish things, Azula._

I agreed blindly, disburdening myself of my mother's company. I knew he didn't mean just her nightly visits. But--

_For your own good, my daughter._ Of course it was. I could more effectively apply myself to my studies, apply myself to fulfilling every need he required of me. I would be better for it. _So much better isn't it?_

What an enlivening lie. My own father, _jealous_ of me. Only very recently did I realize this. I have yet to speak to him about it. I wonder what he'd think now. I wonder _what_ he's thinking now. Maybe there is a tempest churning outside his dark cell, no one will ever come to comfort him. Certainly not the wife he banished. For some reason the thought is funnier than I ever anticipated.

I turn my attention to the soft weight pressing against me. "Are you frightened or just being friendly?" My teasing is rewarded with smooth fingertips running down my chest, sliding my robes apart revealing my rapidly burning skin to the damp breeze pushing through the shutters.

"There's no reason to be scared, I have you don't I?" She kisses my neck and I nod slightly in agreement. For some reason she feels safe with me. I'm not entirely sure it doesn't go against her better judgment. I'm not the child I was when she would seek comfort at my side, but, maybe I'm not the woman who would have shunned her either. She is safe with me, isn't she? Fire Lord Zuzu is always telling her to be careful around me. But that's only because he's _jealous_. The pathetic next best thing.

I rub my hand against the smooth silk covering her back, I'm glad she never had a chance to get to know me as well as my brother had.

"You're right mother. Sleep soundly, I'll protect you from the storm."

I grin as she kisses my robe further open, I know better than to think she could doze while the storm raged outside.

"That's very kind of you dear, but I don't think I'll be able to get much sleep tonight."

My breath hitches when soft lips close around a traitorously taut nipple.

"Well, that makes two of us." I entwine my fingers through her long hair as she pulls back to look at me, her amber eyes tinged with worry. "Oh, I'm sorry dear, do you want me to stop? You've had a long day."

I _was_ rather tired from tedious therapy sessions.

The warmth of my mother and the solace of our chamber was a great relief on days such as this. A small smile of understanding graces her features, but her fingertips stir on the knot of my robes. Childhood memories of sleeping by her side sway me. She didn't want to stop and I wouldn't make her.

"I can't quite comfort you while I'm asleep, now can I? I suppose I'll have to soldier through." I clench my eyes tightly, like it's a chore, but one soon shifts open, I peer down at her. The grin on her face looks so much like my own, I can't help but laugh as she captures my lips with hers.

A sharp bite of thunder makes her hips clench deeply into mine. She doesn't hesitate to move down my body. It is agony at its perfection. I lose focus, thoughts become harder to discern, I am conscious of my mother, writhing sensations turn to the only light present. The twisting flame revels on, insensible to the pained torrents frantically beating up against unyielding earthly barriers, _selfishly_ demanding passage. When the storm finally lulls into a restrained whimper of its former grandeur, I bow out to seemingly pleasant dreams.

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A/N: Dude, I wish I was better at this. Urzula deserves all the shippers it can muster.

This was less fluffy than I originally intended, but alot of their relationship is open to interpretation, and I like exploring it through all angles. But personally there isn't much fluff around this 'pairing'.

****

This was very post-war/rehab, as I can't see Azula putting anyone else before herself. Oh, and sorry about the sudden onslaught of symbolism. XD


	3. Fire Lanterns

Disclaimer: Do not own AtLA. Recreational purposes only. Respect the Vatar'd.

Warning: Nothing particularly.

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Fire Lanterns

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Ursa frowned, hearing her daughter address her elders in such a manner. The little girl just barely came up to Lo and Li's identically robed waists, Azula stomped a small boot, her antics almost comical, dressed in nothing but her underwrappings.

"I don't like it! I told you I don't like it! Why are you trying to deferate me?!" Her shrill little voice shrieked out, she pointed a thumb to her bare chest, kicking at the dress she'd discarded. Ursa was sure Azula didn't even know the meaning of the word 'deferate', she'd probably been listening in on war meetings again. Ursa sighed heavily, laying a hand against the entryway to the girl's room. Her youngest child was always making trouble. She couldn't recall Zuko acting this way.

"Princess Azula, perhaps you would", Li began and Lo completed the statement, "enjoy staying in your room instead." It sounded like a warning on both their tongues.

The girl scowled, falling back onto her bed, the thick sheets enveloping her scrawny divested frame. "Yeah, maybe!" Adding under her breath, though Ursa caught the words, "Lanterns are stupid."

Ursa's grip on the metal door frame tightened, she'd hoped Azula would enjoy accompanying herself and Zuko down to the riverside for the lantern festival. She'd always liked it before, but Azula had stomped away from her, ignoring her mother's questioning. All Ursa had done was compliment her daughter on her evening dress,

_"My, don't we look lovely tonight?" _

_Azula sighed, she rolled her eyes, seemingly exasperated by the words fed to her, "Yessss." Ursa wasn't fooled, she saw how Azula thrust her head higher, pride emanating off of her in undeviating waves._

_Zuko ran past them, eager to reach the palace doors where the palanquin awaited them in the dimly lit night._

_"And what about Zuko?" Ursa continued, smiling she held her hand out to her daughter, brushing her arm expectantly._

_Azula's brow overtly darkened, she jerked away, "What about him?"_

"Be that as it may, you must hurry and dress--"

"--your mother will be awaiting your arrival."

Azula turned her head away from them, her round eyes scrutinized the doorway, spotting her silent audience. The little princess screwed her face into a frown . "So?"

Angered, Ursa took measured steps forward, her daughter shrunk back momentarily, but recovered in an instant, huffing out her chest and deepening her glare. "Azula, listen to your elders. Get dressed this instant, young lady." Ursa lowered her brows, glowering over the girls bed. Why did she always have to be so strict on the girl? Couldn't she behave for once? Ursa waited impatiently as her daughter sized her up.

"I don't want to go with _you_." Azula propped herself on sharp elbows, her amber eyes narrowed.

Ursa's pursed lips parted, her stern composure lost. Her daughter seemed so angry, but she couldn't recall doing anything to upset her.

She kept her voice steady, hiding her clenched fists in her long scarlet sleeves. "Very well, Azula. If you don't wish to go, I certainly won't make you."

Azula turned away quickly, her back to her mother. "Good."

Ursa blinked, embittered by the girls retort. "Fine."

"That's great. Bye-bye!" Azula turned onto her stomach, her tiny fists clenched to either side of her, massing the scarlet sheets, ridges originated from her palms indentions, thick curls spreading across the silk, Azula enshrouded in flames. Ursa shook the thought from her mind.

Her daughter's appointed guardians, stood silently watching mother and daughter, Ursa nodded regally, her words were slowed in attempt to conceal her wearing discomfiture, "Please be sure Azula eats all her vegetables this evening at dinner." More for her own benefit than her daughter's, she added, "I wish for her to grow into a fine young lady." The diminutive, slopped frame gave no response.

Ursa did not bid her daughter good night. The following morning, Ozai informed her that Azula had conceived fire. "_She is a firebender_."

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A/N: To be cont. Eventually.

Ah, so many questions, and Ursa's apparently clueless.


	4. Nothing Sacred

Disclaimer: AtLA does not belong to me. Recreational writing only. Respect the Vatar'd.

Warning: **Incest. Mature themes**. Mentions of **Rape**. Slightly disturbing, even to author. This **IS** your warning.

You don't need to know:** AU** But only depending on how you look at things. ;b

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**Nothing Sacred**

**----**

"Dismissed."

The maid servants were quick to follow the powerful command, exiting the royal bathing chambers in silence. Bowing to their Fire Lord's prone form at the curtained entry, drawing it shut behind them.

Lady Ursa tensed, her body shivering in the warm bath water, she didn't turn to greet her lord. Heavy boots pattered at an even pace against the rigid marble floor, in steady crossing of the expansive chamber, coming to a precise halt behind her at the wide basin. Still, Ursa did not raise her head to acknowledge the intruder. The silence drummed on, becoming excruciatingly painful. She hoped it would be over soon, though she knew it wouldn't.

"Still not clean." The words slashed out like a steal blade. It was cold.

Ursa didn't answer. Barely breathing, staying absolutely still. Her eyes trained on her own reflection in the water. She couldn't bring herself to look to the other image gleaming there. Her counterpart. It was distorted anyway.

"Let me assist you." The voice damp, sickeningly sweet. Soft hands found Ursa's bare shoulder, her surprise at the contact promptly turned to panic as the insistent pressure slowly coaxed her down into the water.

Ursa decided against taking that last breath, she found herself submerged completely. It didn't hurt. It was painless. The hands on her shoulder--it was a comfort. The lights reflected beautifully in the water...expect for the shadow hanging over her, but she was used to that. This was not a bad way to die. It was rather pleasant. She breathed in the water around her. _Gods, just let it end._

Fingers clenched into her shoulder, a fist knoted itself in her hair, pulling her back, coughing, sputtering forth, in unwelcome deliverance. Her head was culled back so she had no choice but to look up at her constant tormentor, those unmerciful amber eyes narrowed.

"Did you think it would be so easy?"

Ursa panted, the breathes hurt, she couldn't speak, she gasped, shaking her head sadly. _Of course it wouldn't._

"I will not be your executioner."

Ursa's eye lids scintillated, fighting back tears. It would only serve to make the Fire Lord angrier to see her cry. "Please Azula, please..." _Just give me peace._

Her head was slammed back against the sturdy metal brim of the basin.

"You're a selfish, filthy little strumpet aren't you?!" The Fire Lord sounded angry, a rarity, even in the company of her mother. Ursa stifled a sob, her eyes clenched shut.

"Look at me."

Ursa had never denied that commanding voice yet, though she was more than reluctant to comply. Her lord's brow was knitted menacingly, unless it was just the moisture permeating the chamber, she was sweating.

"What would become of your precious son, if some _misfortune_ should befall you?"

Ursa's eyes widened, her heart jumped into her throat. The Fire Lord smirked, lowering herself until she was only a fingerbreadth from her face. The painful grip on her shoulder slackened, the back of Azula's hand set to smoothing loose strands of hair that had mated across Ursa's face, the blunt of her sharp nails lightly indenting her skin.

"It will be slow. It will burn. Over and over." The Fire Lord brushed a thumb almost tenderly over Ursa's cheek. "You have my word." _An oath, a promise, something sacred._

Ursa never could have fathomed what it was to hate her own child. This wasn't her child. She thought perhaps the bond had severed that first night Azula had forced her way into her. But looking into this face. She looked so much like her father when she let her emotions trickle into her features. Perhaps she'd never belonged to her.

Ursa shook her head slowly, trying not to push into the fingers stroking her cheek.

Azula laughed, her warm breath tickled her chin, a cruel titter of conquest and victory, Ursa's thighs slammed shut of their own accord.

"Why do you make things so hard on yourself, Ursa? You belong to me now, and you _will_ obey my every wish." The Fire Lord carded a hand through her mother's slick tresses roughly, she sighed dramatically, her face took a more sober front. "And I told you not to visit him didn't I?"

Ursa gripped her bottom lip, so hard she cold taste it, Azula's tongue brushed her own lips. Ursa knew that look, voracious anticipation for what would come next. The Fire Lord pulled Ursa's chin down into several long manipulated nods, she relented.

"Then why did you do it? I don't understand. Do you like your punishments?" A sly look replaced the mock confused one on Azula's face, she cocked her head in question, her long raven hair brushed Ursa's neck.

She quickly pushed back thoughts of her lord chastising her as she leaned exposed over her grand ivory desk. She felt her breathe pulled from her in remembrance of the pain. Ursa shook her head tumultuously.

"Then why Ursa?"

Taking a ragged breath, "I wanted to see him." She answered simply, truthfully. The Fire Lord regarded her curiously, scowling a bit, she brushed at the tears on Ursa's face with an open palm.

"Did he tell you he loved you?" _Contemptuous scorn, her favorite form of mockery._

Ursa knew better than to be deceitful with Azula. "Yes." Her answer little more than a whisper, she was near enough to hear it.

Azula bent forward until her lips were only just barely skimming her mother's, they watched each other silently for a moment. Ursa tried not to look to deeply into her eyes. She'd done it once before, it had stricken her senseless.

"Tell me what you said."

Ursa knew what she wanted to hear. Those words she had long since denied her. _A childish demand._ The last time she'd said it, she had been pleading with her daughter. She'd said _no_ and Azula had just plunged ahead, she had begged her to stop...

Ursa's fists clenched in anger beneath the water. She would never say it again. "I love you."

Azula's eyes slid shut and she groaned when she placed her lips firmly to Ursa's.

"Zuko."

The girl froze against her. Azula would strike her. Torture her. She would toss her to komodo rhinos to be devoured in front of a courtyard audience during evening tea.

But Azula did not do any of these things.

Ursa felt her lord stiffen, she held her position over her lips, though Ursa could see her brow coursing with outrage, hate, ... anguish?

Ursa liked what she saw. Very much. Too much. If she could 'ever sting the girl like such, she would, everyday. And never tire of it. The thought was a tempting one.

Overwhelmed by this feeling of deep loathing, she licked at Azula's lips winding her arms around the tense frame, pulling her closer, twisting her body in the bath, soaking the Fire Lord's well-pressed uniform, Ursa released a wanton moan, it rivaled the intensity of the rush of water sent splattering across the floor. "Zuko."

Azula's eyes widened in surprise for one brief moment, Ursa pulled her head closer roughly, biting and tearing at the Fire Lord's unresponsive lips, _luring_ her in.

"Mommy loves you so much. So much, Zuko." Grinding herself against Azula painfully, she slashed her high collar aside ravishing the girl's neck, submerging her teeth into anything weak enough to dint. But it was a mere nothing to how she hoped the Fire Lord felt. And Gods, she wanted her to feel it.

She'd never embraced the girl like this. Never once, in her two years of imprisonment in the Fire Lord's chambers. But she knew from the way Azula had grabbed her wrists and forced her hands to work against her that she wanted it, wanted Ursa to do the same for her. Now she was, but it wasn't for her, and Ursa hoped she felt it.

"Take me. I'm yours, Zuko. Only for you. Oh, my love."

Azula jerked away from the tub, her meticulous top knot fallen into sweaty disarray. When she looked at Ursa-- yes, it was amazing--there were tears. They were there in plain sight for Ursa to see. She'd broken her. Stepping out of the bath, her eyes trained on those glinting amber ones, she took up the long cloth to dry herself, delighting in the way Azula simply watched her, her eyes blinking repeatedly, her fists clenching and unclenching at her sides. Ursa was not about to let this go.

Throwing the towel aside she approached the stiff form, brushing a kiss against the moist lips, rubbing the tense shoulders. "Let's go to bed, sweetheart. I need you, Zuko. Inside of me."

The young woman's head fell onto her shoulder, burying into her neck, breathing a garroted whimper. "Mom..."

Ursa's nails dug into the girls robes. She was calling her mother? Now?! After she'd threatened Zuko's life, after all she'd--No.

_No._

"I love you, Zuko." She whispered firmly into the girls ear, the body in her arms shook. "Won't you let me open for you?"

The Fire Lord swallowed hard. Ursa pulled away, placing one last kiss on her head, she strode confidently into the adjacent bed chambers, laying out over the silk sheathed mattress. She knew she didn't have long to wait. This is what the girl longed for, and all Ursa wished now was to draw her in for the slaughter.

She smiled, indisputably contented as the girl moved over her, still trembling slightly in effort to staunch her tears. Ursa opened her thighs to accommodate her, and Azula pressed into her slowly, a move almost reverent. _Out right slander._

Cradling the girl's chin in her palm, Ursa dragged her fingers over Azula's left eye, where Ozai had left his stain on her son's pristine face. She hated him, and his daughter was his embodiment in every way. She hated the both of them.

"My beautiful baby boy." Ursa cooed, smoothing her fingers over the detestable face. Azula's eyes squeezed shut, Ursa felt tears dripping down onto her chin.

She pulled her near, running her tongue hungrily over her cheek, capturing every lovely appeal. Satisfied, she allowed the mouth kiss her. "Zuko."

She let those cruel hands run over her for what seemed like hours. Raw lips tugged and caressed her flesh, and Ursa allowed herself to enjoy it, digging her nails heartlessly into the arching back, forcing her deeper. The hisses of pain provoked in her a hitherto suppressed warmth of immense pleasure she'd always found repulsive, she allowed this feeling to flow unchallenged, it whet her senses until she felt she could drown in this intoxicating redress.

"Oh, Zuko, don't...stop..."

And when Ursa's release came, the name of her oldest child reverberated throughout the dark chamber, penetrating every shadow in which sanity could dare find refuge. Nothing more followed this, save the heavy pants of two women.

"I thought you would have been jealous," Ursa's speech fluctuating and low, she turned her head toward the rent body collasped beside her, "sharing me with your brother. Giving me to him completely."

Azula's breath shuddered succinctly, she rolled to her side, throwing an arm over her mother possessively. Only the discordant pulse of a wild heartbeat served as an answer. Ursa sighed. Words are detracting, it would do. She began to drift into contented sleep.

"Anytime mother. You know I'm always good for a lay."

Ursa's eyes flew open, they darkened, looking down at the girl questioningly. Azula smirked against her chest.

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A/N: Azula: 2 Ursa: 0

_Cuz it's mother vs. daughter/daughter vs. mother. ;b It wasn't always "a lay", but the manipulative girl is far too much of a lady for the crude substitute. XD_

_Oh, and sorry about preying on Ursa and Zuko's "special relationship". Suckas!!_


	5. Deviants

Disclaimer: AtLA does not belong to me. I seek no profit.

Warning: **Incest,** and other deviants that may accompany it. We all know why we're here, correct? I should warn you: it's dark. What'd you expect? :) Enjoy!

Inspired by: Tanto Metro & Devonte song: 'Give It to Her'. It's canon I say!

Summary: Azula looks so innocent, when she is asleep. Ursa's dark dreams showcase another side of her daughter. And another side of herself.

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Synonyms for _Deviant_**:** atypical, heretical, off-base, psycho, twisted, wandering

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**Deviant **

----

_At times I wish I could have acted differently, at others, I'm keenly aware that I had no say in any matter, at any time. None of us did._

_----_

"I don't know what to do with this one." I joke. Azula's round eyes measure the panda-lilies I hold, one she'd given to me, the other, her older brother, a moment before he'd left for his lessons.

She smiles kindly, sweeping the latters stem from my hand, setting it ablaze in her own. "I do, Mom."

"Azula!"

"I was only trying to help." She tilted her head in amusement, tossing the burnt blossom to the pond carelessly, the ash of it's blackened silhouette smears and ripples across the crystal water, as a grim cloud would overcast the clean skies.

"Oh, yes, that was _very_ helpful. Sometimes I just can't understand you, child. Do you _like_ causing mischief?"

Her eyes darken, the innocent look on her face slips as she twists down the bench away from me. "You mean: do I _like_ you yelling at me all the time, Mother?"

----

I nearly jumped in fright upon discovering my little Azula already in my chambers, her short legs dancing nonchalantly, her small boots bumping up against the support mattress lath. After I endulged her short reproach on my excitability, going so far as to replicate the face I'd made, she asked for a good night kiss. So strange, she _never_ asks for one, but I suppose we aren't together enough of the time. Not nearly enough of the time. I lean down and kiss her cheek, perhaps she wanted something of me, I straighten and raise a brow warily, "Go to bed now, Azula. We need to rise early tomorrow."

She hopped toward the door, indifferent to my suspicions, maybe I had judged her too harshly. But she turns in the wide doorway to look at me questionately, "Why do you and Dad sleep in separate rooms now?"

"...go to bed, young lady."

----

"Baby, what are you doing?" I whisper sleepily to the darkness. In her eagerness to settle in under the covers, she'd forgotten, she'd had a bad dream. Curling into bed beside me, she swings an arm about my neck, I cradle her to my breast, nuzzling my lips into her hair, she murmurs something in her sleep that I can't discern.

"I love you too, Sweetheart."

----

_Oh gods, what is she doing to me? Why am I letting her do it? My chest rushes up to meet her smirking lips._

I woke with a start, my daughter still asleep against me, her tiny body entangled in mine, I'm completely horrified by the details of the dream that I'd enjoyed far too much, and by its subject. I shift her away from me, as far as I can manage, she sighs but doesn't wake. I adjust my sleeping robes, they'd somehow unfastened during the night. I lay still, trying not to think until the pulsing should subside. Azula rolls her body over the mattress until she is crushed into my waist, again her knee shifts up my thigh, I push her away, less gently than before. I cover my flushed face with my hands.

----

The candle teeters, I grasp for it and it burns me, the heavy base clambers to the floor and the light is swept out, leaving us in darkness. She apologizes countless times, punctuating her remorse with a kiss, starting at my injured finger, trailing up to the inside of my forearm. "I'm fine, Sweetheart." It was an accident.

Her tongue starts to tickle me and I pull my arm away, swatting at her. She laughs passively, small tactful fingers hook my waist. "Can I sleep with you tonight?"

I reach down and find one of the soft locks of hair framing her face, giving it an uneasy tug before slipping it behind the shell of a delicate ear. "No, Dear." The dreams that keep molesting me in the darkness as she lays by my side weigh heavily on my mind. "I think you should sleep in your own room from now on, Azula."

"What about my nightmares?" She lights a little flame in her palm, her amber eyes narrow accusingly: the pouting tactic. I want to spend time with her, we never do during the day, and I _don't_ want nightmares to trouble her innocent sleep, but-

"I'm sorry, Sweetheart."

--

She doesn't speak to me for days afterwards. It wasn't much of a difference from before, really. We never had that _bond_. I suppose I hoped that it would come with time. But time has a devious way of obscuring things.

**----**

**Subsequent Deviance**

**----**

_When my daughter was 'made well' I did my best to express to her what it meant to me, to have her near again. Fortunately, she was articulate enough for the both of us._

----

_She twirls the teacup on the tips of her fingers. It totters near the edge of the dark precipice, the pattern dilates. I wonder how far she could manipulate the cup without breaking it. She's not looking at it, she's watching me. She smirks, then lets it shatter._

I wake gradually, the echo of my dream lingers. I don't understand why Azula must be such a constant in those dreams, and my nightmares.

Arching up off my mattress, I stretch the sleep away. I promised my daughter I would meet her for morning tea, I don't want to lose the precious trust I have been honored with.

----

"You're sweating. You wear too much clothing, Mother."

Waving the maid servant away, she refills my cup with steaming tea, I bow my head in gratitude, reaching my hand out to grab her sleave, I give it a gentle tug, perking a brow in amusement, "And these are your leisure robes, I'm guessing?" Azula had dressed almost immediately in royal uniform upon her return to the palace less than two months prior. I've yet to see the form of my teenage daughter in anything but this or her white shift back at the facility.

She places the delicate kettle aside, covering my hand with hers, she smiles back, her eyes light with mirth, "I don't have to wear my uniform. I choose to."

"We're likewise clad then, but I wear the uniform of a mother, dismal and restrictive though it may seem to you."

Her sharp eyes appraise me from across the high table, drifting up the slope of my collar, watching as I blow lightly across the rim of my cup, "I didn't say your wardrobe was lackluster, you look _ideal_." She takes a sip of tea, her lips purse against the cup, when she speaks again her features and tone showcase lightly veiled disdain, she laughs, the hum is labored. "You just don't always have to dress like my mother." A bird flies too near overhead, and it shadows my daughter's face for a brief instant. Her disapproval bothers me more than I wish to trouble to understand.

I nurse my teacup in one palm, twisting my captured hand to soothe my fingers across her wrist. "I'm not sure I'd want to be dressed as anyone else."

"You wouldn't-" Azula pauses, her brow creases in displeasure, I wait patiently as she slowly traces the pattern of gold trimming the hem of my sleave, her thumb brushes my forearm, her eyes narrow a touch. "You wear too much clothing."

What follows is an unnerving silence between us. A dragon-beetle whizzes by disinterestly, in the distance, a gnarled servant makes a fuss over the death of the panda-lily sedges, raking the brittle casks away in preparation for the young seedlings.

"Azula?" Setting my teacup aside, I take her hands in mine. Seeing the fretful look apparent on my face, she seems to recognize her behavior for what it is, she sighs apologetically, she looks away with a pout I identify as embarrassment, as if she'd been caught in a naughty deed.

"Let's retire back into the palace, Mother. The gardens are unseasonably warm." Azula stood, casting a disparing glance at the resident shrubery engulfing the sunny pavilion. I didn't argue, though I shot more than a few worried side-glances in her direction. Walking in companionable silence, I start slightly when she nudges a shoulder beneath my arm, with a smile I acknowledge her unspoken request, holding her close to me as we round the lantern lit halls leading to her chambers.

----

"Don't you trust me? You're hurting my feelings, Mother." Again, her red lips arch into a pouty bow, she nudges me down to her mattress. This time I allow it. Breathing in the cool of the room and the faint wisp of her aroma relaxes me, her hands are gentle against my shoulders, her eyes soften lovingly.

Very carefully, so tediously, she arranges my arms above my head, her hands smooth--no, _caress_ up to press my wrists, first one, then the other. She smiles, and chides until I submit. My eyes close. She has a _gift_-- to bestow on me. Long moments pass, I start to suspect this is another of those 'charming' tricks of hers. I murmur her name, the smile is wiped perfectly off my face when yielding lips lay against mine. My eyes fly open, they find hers, she doesn't blink, then they flutter shut.

I'm a fool to trust her. And Azula says so with a breathless smirk.

----

At dinner, she laughs along with her brother, some trivial matter of state that is plaguing him, she kindly offers her help in the matter. Her magnetism captivates all present. Fire Lord Zuko is in _awe_ of his sister's redemption. A mark he attributes to me. I know in my heart I had nothing to do with this _transformation_... I'm not sure I want the recognition. Azula raises her glass, she smiles radiantly, I look past the proffered chalice to her lips, already stained red with wine, as they manipulate, "To my _redeemer_."

A lovely scrutiny. My daughter is powerful, she makes me blush in shame with a mere arsenal of terms. Her words ring out as a decree to be followed without question, and so it is. I swallow mine down severely, not surprisingly, it doesn't sit well, burning deep in my chest. She douses her wine in a breath, her eyes gleam with unremitting approbation.

All evening, my eyes flit from the grand banquet table, to my son, to my almost untouched glass of wine, to the blood red curtained far walls and back, but always do they distinguish my daughter's keen stare, fixated on me.

----

The morning air does absolutely nothing to clear my head. The sun is shining too brightly, no clouds yet have appeared to shadow the sweltering earth. I grind my fingers into my temples, I should have stayed in bed, feigned illness, then I wouldn't have to face-

"You're playing hard to get." My breath catches as her arms envelop my waist, she nudges her chin into my shoulder, just enough to cause an ache of discomfort. When did my daughter grow so tall?

"I didn't realize it was a game, Dear." The proximity agitates me as I've never felt before, I don't want her to make some glib remark about my pounding heart, I pull away, but her hips push into mine, pinning me against the steel rim of the balcony. The motion steals a gasp from my lips but I manage to keep my eyes focused on the distant horizon. She chuckles lightly, shrugging into me, she sighs deprecatingly, as if her movements were accidental, her behavior a mere nothing. I keep telling myself not to panic. Of course it's simply sport. Her breath pulses heatedly against my neck.

Isn't it? _Gods, she can feel my heart racing._

That kiss. It was all just my prodigious daughter, having a laugh at my expense. A ploy, it's a pastime of her own device.

The tip of her nose finds the skin beneath my collar, she nuzzles the fabric aside, inhaling deeply. "If you like, I know of a better one." She reaches her tongue in and tastes me. "Ursa."

The pace of her heartbeat picks up so it almost matches mine.

----

Everywhere I turn, anywhere I go, she is there. She smiles so sweetly when she finds me, as if we'd planned this. I never did have a say in our games. I retire to my chambers for the night, a most likely spot. She finds me, no waylay, she said she would, and she's been _so_ truthful with me lately. "Do you need anything, Mother?" She holds me close, her manner open and hospitable as she searches my eyes for some undefined answer.

Nothing a servant couldn't do.

She isn't fazed. "Something only I could do?" She never deviates from her warm smile as her eyes and hands leave the gentle embrace of my shoulders, trailing down to my hips, the thin fabric shifts and trembles under her touch. It isn't the only thing affected by her fondling. My eyes widen and my heartbeat trips, I feel my body start to curve into my daughter's, and that fills me with a long repressed _nightmarish_ fear. "Because I would do it _all_..."

"That's enough Azula!" I push and pull, backing away from her, I hitch the door open, trying to keep my heart down in my chest, shooting the girl a warning look that always had a deep enough effect on her as a child.

She looks so hurt, her eyes blink in confusion. Those red lips part, I know her tongue, at least, isn't innocent. "Mom?"

Her pleading eyes threaten to sway me, I force myself to remember things I wish I could forget, _her lips caressing mine_, "I..."

"Yes?" She doesn't hesitate to counter, her eyes spark in sharp interest.

"I want you... to leave me alone."

Her eyes flicker, a burst of anger, a twinge of regret, finally slipping into something not at all unfamiliar to me, an emotionless mask. She takes in the floor, the surroundings, and least and longest of all me. She looks like she's going to say something, she teeters forward almost imperceptibly, she takes account of my hand shaking on the brass door handle. I know she does.

Azula nods once, twice, if you count her head half jerking away from me. She stiffens, pillar straight, emblazoning the grain of a true soldier, my daughter forges past me, she doesn't look at me. I shut her out, and almost at once the guilt beckons me back, into the abyss of its unredeeming darkness.

And the night lasts forever. Even many silent days afterwards.

----

"Looking for someone?" She swivels her head away from me, though she doesn't bother to veer from her seat at the edge of the pond. A commonplace for us to meet in the afternoons, a highlight of my day. I would not accept losing it--her.

"Azula." I take a seat next to my child, she looks back to the water, though only to watch my movements. Young turtle-ducks leave their mother's side to swim nearer, vigilantly awaiting a hand-out. "I wanted to apologize, I was hard on you."

She shrugs lightly, her face devoid of any hint of sentiment, her tone however, was rich with a cutting edge. "It's the only way I'll learn: discipline. You always seemed to think so."

Her eyes bore into me, that hard look makes me stutter.

"That's, that's not..." But it was true. "You weren't like most children." Her eyes darken, a cloud has blotted the sun that shone through the capering linden leaves above. She doesn't care for differences-- any thing to dare mark her less than perfect. I rest my hand on her knee, she reflects on it. Her eyes almost seem to soften.

"I'm not like most women, either."

My hand recoils before I can stop it, I flinch in self-reproof, my lips tighten. She smiles bitterly, holding her palms up to me briefly to valuate, before hiding her hands in her lap as if to shield me from something indecent, otherwise seemingly naked and revealed to me. She trusted me, I realize, against her better judgement no doubt. I swallow forcibly. "You've always been special, Azula...you're my precious baby girl." I touch her shoulder lightly, the tips of my fingers first, then, tentatively my hand curls there as well. I never dreamed I would have this talk with any of my children, and there was so much I still needed to understand, and she'd been willing to open up to me at last. "But...why are you acting this way toward _me_?" My daughter's 'difference' was one thing, in her family, things were not always as they seemed, but if I was interpreting her actions correctly...

Azula didn't respond, she stared down into the water, her mask of indifference pronounced yet again. Taking both my daughter's hands from their hiding place, I set them open, palms up, on her knees. "Azula, please, don't be afraid to talk to me."

"Can you honestly tell me you don't know?" My daughter broke ahead roughly, staring down at her hands in annoyance.

"Know _what_ exactly?" I hardly knew the girl--the young woman beside me, this was painfully evident.

Azula sighed in frustration, she looked to me, her eyes narrowed pointedly, "That I love you, Ursa. I love you with the love of a woman, not a child. Not _your_ child. Is that something I can _talk_ to you about?"

The little turtle-ducks twittered nervously, their plaintive sqeaks halted, gliding away from us. They leave the most beautiful ripples in the water with the delicate pads of their claws, the golden light shimmering off the pond almost matches the gold of my daughter's eyes. How beautiful. -Dumbstruck-, I think, is the best term to describe the raw jolt that hit me hard in the chest. She shook her head, her lips pulled almost in amusement, she continued on, her precise speech sounding more like a war doctrine than a confession.

"Or maybe, I can tell you about all those nights I spent thinking of you." Azula stood, pacing the ground evenly, gesticulating grandly with her arms, hands, body. "Not as my mother. Not as your daughter. I don't think we've ever truely been mother and daughter, do you?"

My child circles me expectantly, I'm being tried for my crimes, I had no testimony prepared. "I...I'm so sorry, Azula, I..." I don't know how to think, somewhere in the back of the mind I can't seem to find I recognize this as a scene from my worst nightmares.

She kneels down to my ear. "Yes. It _is_ your doing." I turn away from her somber face, the image of my dereliction.

"I never wanted to hurt you...I... tried my best." It's almost surreal, the way I reach slowly for her hand, she angles away from me before I can touch her.

"Your best clearly wasn't good _enough_. But do you think that really matters now? You can't fix this. Just accept it for what it is, won't you?"

I don't hold back the tears any longer.

----

**Deviated Consummation**

----

_Alone._

----

_"..."_

_"I don't want to lose you." I whisper into the darkness._

_"I know, Mother." The darkness responds._

_"...what can I do?"_

_There is a strange movement somewhere at the edge of the abyss. It frightens me. Flashes of light surge across the obscurity, a trail of bleary smoke residue curls at length, as a finger would coax and lure a wandering child._

_"I think you know. _Ursa_."_

----

It was easy enough to walk the short walk to her quarters. It was easy enough to open the door. _So_ easy to enter unannounced.

I just couldn't _do_ it for what seemed like an eternity.

But I did.

She was still awake, sitting at her vanity, purposefully brushing her long raven hair for bed, her amber eyes found mine in the wide mirror. "Mother?"

"Daughter." I shut the door behind me, she lowers the comb, her brows peak in curiousity, she turns in her seat regally.

"To what do I owe-" I silence her arrogance with my lips.

"_Azula_."

She murmurs somthing I can't discern. I have no answer for her regardless.

----

I take a plunging breath, brushing the dark strands of hair from her face, she looks so peaceful, so innocent when she is asleep. My fingers run the length of her satiated lips. She smiles. I smile too, briefly; my hand falls to the mattress with a hard thud.

_I just took my own daughter._

There were words to describe how I felt. Many, I'm sure, though far into that night I could only answer her probings in strangled grunts. She hadn't seemed to mind.

Now, however, there was nothing to stall my thoughts, it was so very dark, and they crashed one by one against me.

The third thought that came to me was to move off the contaminated mattress, but she grasps my arm, ruling against me she pulls me back to her. "Ursa. Don't go. Please." It isn't really a plea, because she knows that I'm not going anywhere... if she doesn't want me to. She wraps an arm around my waist, holding me close, kissing my bare shoulder.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome, Mother." She takes a contented breath. "I love the way your body feels next to mine."

I fall asleep, and she finds me in my dreams.

----

With fire dancing in her eyes, she watches the tips of her fingers indent across the flesh of my sides, over and over, and over. I don't know what she finds so remarkable about it. I ask her, she laughs, leaning into me so her naked skin is cradled against mine, she kisses my neck tenderly, so that I can't even feel the hard of her teeth veiled behind those smiling lips.

"I used to think," Her breath is heated in my ear, palms smooth down my hips, "when I was very, _very_ small," I can't help the ripple that follows her every movement, she widens her grasp with long tactful fingers, "that it would burn to touch you."

I pin her shoulders in my arms, ceasing her feverish explorations, settling her head against my chest, her favorite place to sleep, even if it wasn't sleep on her too clever mind, "No." It only ever burned me, I was glad of it, I did not wish to cause my daughter more _pain_.

I kiss my little Azula's forehead.

--

As I lay awake, stroking the darkness, she murmurs something in her sleep that I no longer have trouble discerning. I ignore her petty words, and replace them with my own petty longings.

"I love you too, Sweetheart."

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A/N: This set kept tampering with my mind 'til I agreed I'd post it next. Shoot, it was only supposed to be five paragraphs long! Guess it bubbled. *coughSlightlycough*

Ah, the linden (tree of lovers) isn't an Oriental tree, it is infact, very Caucasion in region. ;)

_Tomatazos! By all means!_


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